Mine
by Sonata Appassionata
Summary: She was his... His, and only his... SEPHTHYS ONESHOT


**This is a fic about my take on the story of Set/Nephthys and how I think their relationship was like. Some say that it was Nephthys who left Set to have a child with Osiris but some other people say that it was Set who left Nephthys. This story is the first version. Please read and review! **

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own anything.**

He was the raging fire that burned through the Sahara. The red, unstoppable presence of chaos, of vengeance and power. He was the howls of savage wolves tearing apart their prey, of the earsplitting clangs of metal on metal as armies clashed.

She was the clear blue rise and fall of the living, breathing Nile, the gentle splashes, the whisper of water. She was the rivulets and streams that carried uncertainty, terrified of the possible consequences to flow to their desires.

They say that opposites attract. Perhaps they are right. And as fire and water met...

...

Nephthys had loved his fiery and confident manner ever since she first saw him. The burning, unstoppable aura of power against her own cool, watery being. Perhaps it was the way he was as different from her as two people could be that intrigued and mesmerized and _seduced_ her so much. Everything about him felt like an adventure, a mystery she would die if she did not unveil. She could not get enough of it. It was like an addiction that no therapy could cure.

He was a flame inside her that burned through to the core of her watery self. And yet... She did not hate it. She did not feel like it was slowly destroying her from the inside. Instead, it gave her life. It was a source of pure energy that kept her with strength, that fueled her power and passion. A burning inferno of myriad forms and possibilities. With him, anything was possible. She could do anything, _be _anything.

She loved feeling the steam fog up everything as the temperature between them rose like the swelling currents of the Nile. She loved the electrifying thrill of being with him, feeling the charge running through her like a flooding Nile that made her breath shorten to gasps and her heartbeat speed up to the flutter of a hummingbird's flight. With him, there was passion. There was strength. There was sympathy. There was _love_. They were polar opposites, but ironically he was the one that truly understood her. Understood that she needed him as much as he needed her, knew her better than she knew herself.

She had always been the weak one, the needy one that depended on her sister. The one that could never even hope to be queen. Though Isis smiled, Nephthys could tell that behind her sister's sympathetic façade Isis regarded it as a fact that Nephthys was a weakling. Everyone did. But not him. He made her feel, for the first time, like a queen.

"_You're just as powerful as the rest of us, you know."_

_One hand reached out, almost tentatively, to brush a few strands of hair out of her face. The gesture was almost gentle, caring even. She was the only one whom he revealed this side of him to, she thought with a thrill. She, little Nephthys. Not the Isis. Not Bast. _

_She smiled._

But so many times, she could not keep up with his thoughts as he struggled for the pharaoh's throne, unable to understand and dissuade his foolish actions. All of a sudden some things between them started to blur. She simply could not seem understand him as well as he did her. It sometimes made the jumble of things she did not want to think about seem so much more complicated than they really were. It was unbearable. At times, She felt so powerless, as much of a weakling as her sister had made her out to be. In the dark places of her thoughts, she had no idea what to do...

"_Set, I - "_

_"Don't speak to me, woman!"_

_"You can't do this! You - I -" She faltered, clawing for the right words that could somehow make him understand._

_His gaze pierced right into her, jets of rage searing her._

_"Are you calling me weak?" His voice was a deadly whisper._

_"No! I just meant -"_

_"Whose side are you on?"_

_"I -" She scrambled away, like a frightened insect, terrified to say anything._

_"I'll do whatever I please, understood?"_

_"Y-yes."_

...

Nephthys was do different from all the other power-hungry gods who listed ager nothing but control over others. Set had realized this as he got to know her all those years ago. Those other gods did what was best for themselves, whereas she tried her utmost to do what she could for everyone. He had been mistrustful and cold; his heart as icy and blackened as his merciless staff. He has learned aeons ago that you had solely yourself. Those who spoke of "love" and "sympathy" told nothing but blatant, lies. Nobody loved others. They only loved themselves.

Love had never once existed in his world... Until she walked in with all the charm and grace a woman could possibly possess. Walked in and held his shriveled, dead heart in her smooth, warm hands... And slowly made it beat again.

She had accepted him into her life like no one else ever had. Since the day he was born he had been shunned: they all preferred Osiris, the great and the mighty lord that would be pharaoh. All who laid eyes on Set regarded him as nothing an evil wreck of chaotic destruction that they should stay away from. He hated them. Did they not understand that he was the one that kept balance between order and chaos like no one else did? No one did, and he drove his sword through his enemies and dyed his great deserts with their blood.

No one understood. Except her. She who truly cared, who did not crave power but wanted only him. She who sent his fortresses crashing and made him realize that he did not need to be alone for everything, after all. She made him wonder, in the swirling back of his mind, that during all those time he had defied the mortal emotions, the weakening feelings called love, had he actually been waiting for someone to prove him wrong? She was beautiful. He wished he could look at her with a thousand eyes, to feast his heart with that vision of unfathomable grace. She was so serene and divine, so ready to take the shape of anything, to melt into him and call herself his. She was his. _You're mine_.

But the thickening fog that blinded him as it did her. It pressed in on his senses, closing in everywhere so hard that he found himself desperately looking for her, trying to find her. He panicked. Struggling and yelling he tried to reach her, to grab hold of her and understand all the simple things that had suddenly become so foreign. But he could not see her, could not find her amongst the dizzying, mist as he uncertainly called out her name.

"_Nephthys...?" _

_His voice sounded almost uncertain. She backed away from him, eyes flashing fear in his direction. His heart sank like a stone in water. Regret clouded his mind. It had just... slipped out. He had never meant to yell at her, never meant to hurt her._

_"I'm sorry."_

_She pressed herself against the wall._

_"Please, I - I did not mean to. I just -"_

He did not see her slip away like a small, insignificant stream flowing away.

As the smoke cleared, he looked up, finally able to see, to know. As his vision cleared, it came to him out of nowhere, like a figure lurking in the dark ready to appear out of nowhere to carve his heart out of his chest. As if in slow motion, everything started to shatter and collapse around him, crumbling away, ricocheting off into space, to reveal the terrible, blinding, deafening truth.

He stood there, unblinking, not even breathing, just... there, drinking in everything around him like poison. The world had ended. There was nothing left for him. No anything. So why was he still standing there? Why? Because. _Because_. Nephthys could not, _would_ not have left him like this. It was absurd. Impossible.

But the solid, irreplaceable fact that stood there like an unmovable boulder remained... that she had.

And after all that time, she was gone. Out of his sight. Out of his reach. Out of his life.

His path was empty and lifeless as he willed himself to put one foot in front of the other. What was the point? He no longer knew. He had failed to protect his king, failed to defend him as the serpent struck. Now the despicable filth he had for siblings were robbing the throne that was meant for him. And the only person he had ever loved, who he was sure had ever wanted him back had left him in the trail of dust like a broken rag doll. Discarded. Unwanted. Why, why did fate always have to play such cruel, heartless games with him? Everything, _everything_ he had that was worth having had been snatched so callously away, as if to taunt him with every passing second. Who was still left for him to live for? No one. No one that he cared or trusted enough to make himself keep going on. Why did this have to happen to him? Out of all people, why him? Why? The word reverberated in his brain. First nothing but a buzz, then louder and louder, pressing on his skull until it was the sound of the whole world screaming. A million voices that deafened him, blinded him, screaming the injustice, the pain.

Suddenly, without warning, he could not hold it back any longer. All the rage, the hatred, the spite that had roiled and bubbled inside him in a poisonous crimson froth erupted to the surface with the force of an exploding bomb. He was an animal. A vengeful, uncontrollable, insane animal torn from any sense and reason he still possessed. No magician or god could even _think_ about taming him. No. He would not bow down to the new pharaoh. He would _never_ bow down to had. He never had, and never will. Not to him, not to _anyone_. _He_ was pharaoh, the rightful kind of the world, the true heir to Ra's throne. Not his brother. Never his worthless brother. And he told himself that if there was no one else to live for, then he would at least have the pride to live for himself.

Osiris was nothing but a helpless weakling, a thieving coward who hid behind the skirts of his lying, scheming wife while she fought for the throne on his behalf. Stealing was the quintessence of weakness. And Osiris had robbed Set of everything he ever had, taken everything he _was_. His attention. His throne. _His love._

He would make Osiris pay.

He did it to get back the throne that was rightfully his. _Yes, he did it for the throne._ And he did it to avenge himself, to prove his worth at long, long last. He, the god of murderous sandstorms and slaughter and everything unpleasant. He, the invincible one, now empty of all the human emotion and weakness he had ever had. He, the new king of a glorious new age.

And yet, in the deepest places in his mind, places even he himself had not yet explored, he knew that it was for none of those reasons he had given himself. Somewhere, the smallest part of him he refused to acknowledge had hoped - or dreamed - that by annihilating Osiris he could maybe, just maybe, wish to claim back that _other_ thing that he had lost. The one that despite everything, a part of his heart still yearned for like nothing else.

...

Nephthys's tears fell, one by one like pearls onto her lap. As they caught the light, they glistened, almost like diamonds. So beautiful, yet so full of unspeakable pain. Set would never know how what she did hurt her as much, or even more than it did him. It was a double-edged sword, and not a day passed when she did not feel the cold, vicious blade piercing harder, deeper into her bleeding, shattered heart. She had been so, so foolish. She could not talk to anyone about it. She could not even _think_ about it. Disguising herself with a carefree nonchalant facade, she pretended she was relieved, even proud that she had left, so that no one could see her pain. It was disgusting and left her nauseated at herself all over again. But it was the only way to hide the despair that tore through her soul every second that passed without him. _Brutal murderer,_ she heard her hated sister call Set. _Insane, chaotic psychopath_. It all made her sick to the stomach and wanted to scream or throw them all into her beloved Nile and watch them drown. _His eyes shine in the dark like black diamonds, _she thought. _He's fearless and intelligent. He's the best thing that ever happened to me._

But he was also gone. When she was alone, the tears fell. The silent, frozen tears that spoke more words than Thoth could ever teach the wisest of men to speak. It was so cold without him. The chilling wind tried to blow her down, the whispers and sickening cries of jubilation of the other gods - her sister - sent shivers down her spine. Her tears icy, her pale skin frosted, she was a cold, beautiful ice queen compared to what she used to be with him.

And those crystallized memories of him that suspended mid-air in time and space that haunted her dreams and pressed in on the forefront of her vision when she closed her eyes. The ghost of his laugh still rang like a symphony in her ears, and she could picture his face, clear as day. The face as pure as it was hers.

_She lay there, breathing and contented beneath him. She had never before felt so at peace, so... filled. She felt him against her, every ridge and curve matching her body. A puzzle piece, she thought. Two pieces that fit exactly to become one._

_She could not hold herself back any longer._

_"I love you."_

_He did not speak, but she felt him stiffen slightly at the sound of her words, hesitating. A flutter of fear started in her stomach. What if she had said the wrong thing? What if, oh Ra, he did not say it back?_

_Then he was sitting up, pulling her with him, and she briefly wondered what he was doing. He stared at her, long and hard, his eyes unreadable in the dark. He took her hand, hard, and she felt sudden heat rush through her palm, up her arm, searing her, burning her. She tried to pull her hand away but he held on steadfast to it._

_On top of her palm burned a crimson hieroglyph, it's light almost blinding in the dark._

_She stared at it, in awe._

_"Evil Day," she breathed._

But it was just that. A ghost. Every time Nephthys reached out, hopelessly trying to touch him, to bring him back, he faded away like a distant wisp of smoke. Unreachable. Try as she might she knew that she could never bring him back, after what she had done. She had been a fool. And this was the price to pay.

...

_His hands were tangled in the softest silk of her hair as he pulled her flush against him. Her glowing, gorgeous face was just an inch away, her enchanting eyes filled with longing and hunger stared back at him as though feasting on him, like he was the only thing she would ever need. Just knowing this increased the burning feelings in his heart tenfold. He kissed her. Gently at first, then harder, unable to contain all the love, the desire he felt for her that coursed through his entire being. He ran his hands through her hair, down her sides and felt her shiver at his touch as he pressed closer to her. Oh, this was all he wanted. To simply hold her there in his arms. To love her. To have her love him back. _I love you_, he could have whispered with all the passion of a volcanic eruption. _I want you. You're mine_... But instead, what came out was a small, silent plea of _don't leave me_..._

The Nile. Set never wanted to lay his eyes on that river, or any other river ever again. But as much as his mind protested, his body had mercilessly dragged him here. Why? No. It could not be. Never. He had sworn to himself. It would not happen. And yet...

It was nightfall. The full, silver moon hung suspended, so gracefully in the dark velvet of the sky he could not tear his eyes away from it. It was a beautiful sight. Regal as a queen's opulent robe, fair as a swan's neck, and the way it lit up the night with its soft, delicate shimmer.

And the river. The gently rippling Nile that breathed life into Egypt. Into him.

His mouth instantly went dry. No, he could not stay here any longer. He had to leave. He had sworn to himself that he would never stray near here ever again, even in his wildest thoughts. In his heart he knew that this was where his one and only weakness lay. But... He cursed himself. This also meant that... that try as he might, this _was_ his weakness.

And for the first time. He could not deny it. Not when he was standing there, just feet away...

He could see it. The elegant ripples that seemed to sparkle like diamonds in the moonlight, almost like the flutter of a silken blue dress cascading onto the ground. He could smell it, even taste it on his tongue. The slight salt, the feelings that no words could describe that swirled in the air of the Nile, that lingered on her skin. The gentle whisper of the spray was like the soft, seductive breeze of her breath on the back of his ear the night he had given her his true name like a rose, just for her to know. He hovered at the very thought of it. Oh... When was the last time he had opened up his senses like this? When was the last time he had ever paused to think about just how much had been ripped away from him?

All of a sudden he felt so, so powerless. This was the first time that he was not the one in control, the first time that he depended on the actions of others.

But he did not want to control her. He just wanted to be loved by someone he would gladly give up everything else for. Was that, honestly, too much to ask for?

And in his mind he was running down deserted hallways and corridors, calling her name over and over again in an endless cry of broken insanity. And nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered as long as he could find her, reach her, bring her back to him. What would he have not given just to be able to look into her indescribable eyes and see her staring back with as much longing as he felt for her. _Please. Please_. He would gladly give up the pharaoh's throne, he would do anything...

Please come back to me...

And when he felt an all too familiar presence behind him, all he could do was freeze on the spot, unable to think. Because... Despite everything, this - like so many other things - simply could not be true...

...

Nephthys could have been run through by a dagger and not realized it. Her heart seemed to stop, her very being frozen to the spot. As she stared up at the face that had haunted her dreams for all those years.

_Oh Set._

Even after all that time he seemed so... So _same_. The proud, gorgeous features of his face which she had lovingly traced the geometry of. The familiar, burning skin that she had seemed to drown in every time they made love to high heaven and great ground. Those arms that could keep her safe from Apophis himself.

But anyone could see the strange inferno that raged in his eyes. In them was something she had never, ever seen there before. Certainly there was shock but... Sadness? _Desperation_, even?

But as he got over his initial surprise she saw all those mortal emotions start to fade. In those dark, beautiful irises a terrible sandstorm started to brew as he took in what he was seeing. Took in the sight of the she-devil with the face of an angel who had deserted him. A cold fury started to burn through his features as he stepped forward toward her. And Nephthys recognized this look. It was the look of revenge.

She stumbled backward blindly as Set advanced toward her, righteous anger burning through his face. She had seen him crush his enemies like paper, marveled at his strength, his dark dangerous wrath that could destroy anything. A wrath that was now her turn to taste. Now, it was her turn to be crushed, to be destroyed, obliterated. Her turn to pay for what she had done.

Tears streaked Nephthys's face as she turned to flee, certain that if Set caught her she would be destroyed for sure. Dimly she wondered why she had come in the first place. Did she really, honestly think that it would be alright? That he would actually _forgive_ her and accept her back into his life like nothing had happened? No. That had just been her crazed imagination at work. He would never do that. She had hurt him too much, too long. Not for the first time, she was, again, a fool.

"Nephthys!"

She froze. Because she had never heard him like this before. All the rage, the vengeance had dissipated like smoke. In its place was raw, unadulterated pain.

"Don't leave me!"

When she turned, she saw a frantic light dancing in his eyes, and she realized that, for the first time, he was terrified. Terrified of seeing her in front of him, then have her turn away from him again. Terrified of having her walk out of his life like she had never been in it.

"Not again..."

The one, first step Nephthys took toward him turned to two. Then four, eight... And as he grabbed her in his possessive, vice-like grip she was lost in the tornado of longing in his eyes. She felt as though she was drowning -_yes, drowning_ - her mind spinning away out of control through murky water. Yet nothing mattered. Nothing mattered except for the fact that he was here. _Here_. And she was here too with him an_d oh Ra _somehoweverything would go back to how it was before...

"You came." His voice was a hoarse whisper.

At this moment she wanted to tell him how sorry she was. She wanted to tell him that there was not a single moment when the sword of guilt had not ripped her apart over and over again

A millennia of apologies stuck at the base of her throat, yet all that came out was, "You called."

And that was as good as anything else she could have said.

...

He kissed her. No, that was wrong. He _devoured_ her, freeing her from her prison of guilt at long last. She was his. His, and _only_ his. _You're mine_. He ran his hands down her back, feeling the familiar curve of her hip that he had long ago claimed as his. _Mine_. The word blurred his vision until the beautiful creature in front of him was all he could ever see. _Mine_. It rang like a symphony in his ears. _Mine. Mine. Mine. _It throbbed like a heartbeat through his veins.

"Yes..." She breathed. "Yours..."

_Mine_.

Forever.


End file.
